


moon, it knows

by adequater



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adequater/pseuds/adequater
Summary: Jaemin feels dread crawling up his skin slowly, washing over him, and he wants to hide, and and and and, he can’t stop staring at Mark. Who is cool. Who dresses nicely. Who is cute. Who has the latest Macbook, goddamn. Jaemin blinks in realisation, blinking slowly at Jeno. “Did he just flirt back?”Or, Jaemin is a resident flirt, and he finds himself thrown off balance when he's put in his place.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 265





	moon, it knows

**Author's Note:**

> hello, been long!
> 
> i literally cannot believe how quickly this story came to life. i did it in, like, 3 hours. after months, and months of not writing. because i got the inspiration after seeing this [tweet.](https://twitter.com/togidemi/status/1230865661074771975?s=20) yeah, inspiration is weird. 
> 
> have fun reading! this is super duper unbeta'ed and just stupid, and ridiculous.
> 
> enjoy reading! :)

In Jaemin’s defence, he really didn’t think it would get this far. 

It’s all innocent. Jaemin can’t help it. It’s in his nature, much like how people are born with a sexuality, and they can’t be changed, no matter how much his parents insist that Jaemin is such a _manly_ boy, how come he’s _half gay_ (complete with the shrug, and the side eyes whenever Jaemin shows any signs of his sexuality, and god, Jaemin wants to _throw_ things, he wants to die, he wants to see what would truly happen after you die, because Jaemin thinks god, whatever god (“God,” his mother’s voice sounds in his head) is would probably spend their time on punishing people who truly did heinous act rather than people who like _men, too gosh,_ okay, he’s getting out of topic here, um.) Much like how people are born with certain genetics, much like how honey and trees are natural, much like how, uh, babies are natural product, and uh, what else, much like how Jeno is always looking at him like he’s disappointed in everything Jaemin does, which to be fair, same. 

But, like. 

“You have to stop,” Jeno grimaces, glancing up at Jaemin as he tries to type up something on his new Macbook, and Jaemin tries to remember what Jeno is talking about, his head distracted, thinking simultaneously of what are things that are _nature,_ and also lamenting at how Jeno got a new _Macbook,_ while he’s stuck with an old model that has barely any fucking space. Jeno grunts, noticing Jaemin’s mind wandering again, kicking his shoes under the table. 

Jaemin groans, snapping out of it. “Dude, that actually hurts.” 

“Don’t care. Stop hurting people’s feelings. Barely compensates for all the false hopes you give people, anyway.” 

Ohhhh, yeah. That was what they were talking about. 

Jaemin dismisses Jeno with a flick of his hand, and Jeno, being Jeno (in his nature!), swats that hand away, and tries to bite Jaemin’s hand, and Jaemin quickly retracts his hand. “Hey! Bad dog!” Jeno glares at that. Jaemin smirks, and focuses on the Word Doc on his shitty laptop, ugh, he needs a new one. “Anyways.” Jaemin should’ve finished this assignment last night. His class is in an hour. “My point is--”

“You didn’t make any poi--”

“My _point_ is,” Jaemin says pointedly, eyes fixed on his screen. “It doesn’t matter. Since when do you care that I flirt with people, anyway? You know I do it for fun! No one gets hurt!”

“No one gets hurt, my ass.” Jeno might’ve muttered, but Jaemin’s trying this thing where he tries to be optimistic, so Jaemin thinks it’s about Jeno’s own assignment. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t care! But you’ve been targeting Mark Lee! You know that doesn’t sit right with me!”

“Whyyyyyyy?” Jaemin whines in exaggeration, corner of his lips pointing up a bit at the reminder of Mark Lee. “He’s just so cute! He always gets flustered when I flirt with him. You know that’s the fun in it.” 

Jaemin hears Jeno make sounds of disgust, but Jaemin thinks it may be because of how this campus cafe smells, because _same._ “Don’t flirt if you don’t mean it!”

“I mean it! I mean every flirt I flirted!” Jaemin says indignantly. _“Especially_ about Mark Lee. C’mon. I don’t lie about getting lost in his eyes. Have you seen his eyes? Wouldn’t you flirt with him, too?” 

Jaemin looks up at that exact moment, and Jeno’s wrinkled nose in disgust is definitely directed towards him. No optimistic thinking could hide that. “He’s my fucking cousin.”

Jaemin knows, of course Jaemin knows. Jaemin shapes his mouth to an O. “Oh, yeah! I just remembered!” Jaemin winks at Jeno, and Jeno has his standard “disappointed with Jaemin” look, and honestly, he makes Jaemin’s day. 

“I cannot stand you,” Jeno deadpans, and he tries to focus back on his assignment. _New Macbook,_ Jaemin thinks forlornly, going back to his own assignment. Jaemin thinks he’s done, but then Jeno speaks up again. “Mark is such a good kid. I don’t want him to be getting trapped in your shit.

“What are you, his cousin?” Jaemin jokes, and Jeno gives him another glare, so Jaemin backs down because while he is used to Jeno’s signature “glares” (quotation marks because he doesn’t look scary _at all),_ two in a span of seven minutes is reaching the maximum quota for per hour. “Fine, kidding. Mark’s not mad about it! Why are you?” 

Jeno scoffs. “How do you know he’s not mad about it?”

That gets Jaemin looking up from his assignment, grinning up at Jeno excitedly, kicking at Jeno’s feet. “Why, why, why? Did he say something about me?” 

Jeno looks at him in disbelief. “That’s what you chose to take away from this?”

Jaemin copies Jeno’s scoff earlier. “You were the one who worded it that way!”  
  
“What way? Any sane person would know that what you’re thinking is not what I implied!”

This is too much for even Jaemin’s brain to comprehend. “What did you even imply?!”

“I don’t know, you tell me!” Jeno retorts, and Jaemin could strangle him right now. 

“We’re going in circles! Just answer my question, stupid!” Jaemin exclaims, and he sees from the corner of his eye that the student next to them shuffles her seat away discreetly. Jaemin looks at her, and pouts. “Sorry for being loud, my friend here doesn’t understand simple questions.” The girl, seeing Jaemin’s pout, blushes, nodding away Jaemin’s apology, putting the strand of her fringe behind her ear. She moves back her chair to the original position. Maybe a little closer than needed, but Jaemin smiles at her again before turning to face Jeno again. 

Jeno has that look again, and he leans in to whisper in Jaemin’s ear. “You are so?!” 

Jaemin looks at him in confusion. “Thanks?” 

“Stop flirting with everyone you see!” Jeno exclaims, and the girl next to them has her headphones in, so she doesn’t move. 

“Jeno, if you can’t differentiate being nice with flirting then I don’t know what to tell you,” Jaemin pouts apologetically, patting Jeno’s arm in pity, going back to his assignment. Jeno, Jaemin can see, have given up, seeing as he sighed, and decided to focus his energy to typing angrily at his laptop rather than dense rock that is Jaemin. But, Jaemin’s brain is kinda all over the place, so he needs answer. Jaemin nudges Jeno’s feet knowingly. “Did Mark Lee talk about meeeeeeee?” 

Jeno looks up with an exasperated look at Jaemin, and his eyes flash something that Jaemin can’t quite read. He sighs instead, jutting his lips out, and point to behind Jaemin with his head. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” 

Jaemin quickly whips his head to his back, and sees Mark Lee, looking as good as ever, with an orange shirt that shouldn’t look good on anyone, and an orange beanie, as well as a flannel over his shirt.. He’s on his phone, the coffee he just bought in his right hand, and his laptop bag held close to his chest, as he types up something on his phone with his poop hand, brows furrowed in concentration at the text he’s constructing, his mouth a bit pouted, and honestly, how could Jaemin _resist?_

“Hi, Markly,” Jaemin says cheekily, just as Mark is about to reach their table. Mark startles, his hand that was furiously typing earlier stopped, and his coffee spills a little, and Jaemin has to bite his tongue when green comes instead of the colour of coffee, because it’s _not_ coffee, but _matcha,_ and Mark’s so fucking hipster, and how could Jaemin even _noooooot?_ Mark is staring at Jaemin in shock, eyes wide, and mouth agape a little (ohhh, cute), the grip he has on his matcha (Jaemin wants to scream, yell, and shout) tightens, colour slowly filling in his cute cheeks that is definitely not the cold, because London for once is hot today, and this campus coffeeshop is neither hot nor cold, and it kinda smells like ass while Jaemin’s at describing this coffeeshop, so it’s _Jaemin,_ and Jaemin hasn’t even said _much._ Jaemin pokes at Mark’s frozen form. “Chill, Markly, I’m not the Queen, no need to freeze.”

Jaemin hears Jeno make a sound of confusion. Jeno waves weakly. “Hey, Mark.” 

“Hi,” Mark squeaks, immediately averting eye contact with Jaemin, and Jaemin wants to poke out every frickin’ reaction out of him. “Jeno. Jaemin.” 

Jaemin leans forward a bit, putting his face in Mark’s line of vision. “Why did you say Jeno’s name first? Do you like Jeno more?” 

Mark makes a strangled noise in his throat, as if in disbelief, and he meets Jaemin’s eyes again, and his ears are red. Oh, he has airpods on. He’s so fucking cool. What the fuck? “Um, sorry?”

“Don’t have to. When a cutie like you makes a mistake, it’s not a mistake,” Jaemin grins, still straining his head so Mark can look at Jaemin, and Mark averts his eyes again, but looks at Jaemin again, and smiles shyly. 

“Uh. Yeah,” was Mark’s only response. He makes a point to try to meet Jaemin’s eyes again, but he must’ve felt the way his cheeks gain colours again, because he averts his eyes, and Jaemin grins at him, because he’s adorable, honestly. 

“Maaark,” Jaemin whines, and he tugs at Mark’s hand that is holding his _matcha_ (Jaemin still can’t get over it), directing it towards Jaemin still-yet-to-be-finished assignment. “I’m barely done with my work! You distracted me!” 

Mark’s eyes is glued to how Jaemin’s hand is on his own, coughing to hide his shyness, and he looks at Jaemin first, and when he sees that Jaemin is pouting at a _new_ thing, he reverts his eyes to Jaemin’s laptop, frowning. He glances at Jaemin, and Jaemin grins, so Mark looks away, pocketing his phone, and putting his now free hand on top of their attached ones.

Jaemin freezes. 

Mark looks at him, and his eyes are so so big and shiny, and he’s so _cute,_ he’s so _cool,_ and he says to Jaemin with a pout on his lips, with his coloured cheeks, and says, “but Mark has only been here for three minutes.” 

Jaemin can feel his breath stop. Their hands are still in this weird tangled mess over the matcha (MATCHA!!!!!), and Mark is still looking at Jaemin with _that_ look on his face, and Jaemin can see that Mark’s heating up again, so he’s still a teeny bit embarrassed, so it’s not like an alien had taken over his shy, flustered, Mark Lee, he’s still him, but holy fuck, did he just use his own name to refer to himself? What the fuck? 

Mark, seeing how Jaemin is now frozen, untangles his hand from Jaemin’s hold, and smiles shyly at Jaemin, it’s almost as if that didn’t just happen, and if it wasn’t for Jeno also freezing as he studies the two of them, Jaemin would’ve thought that it didn’t happen, too. But then he says with a smirk: “Stop thinking about me, Jaemin. Isn’t your class in twenty minutes?” 

Jaemin gapes at Mark Lee, and thinks: _wow._

Mark Lee gives Jeno a smile as a goodbye, and returns his eyes back to Jaemin, and begins walking away. Jaemin’s glad that Mark’s face is at least still red. “Bye, Jaemin.” 

Jaemin slides his face to a composed smile, as if his insides didn’t just get turned to mush at what just happened. He waves at Mark, winking as Mark walk away. Just when Jaemin thinks he can _breathe,_ Mark turns back, and says with an _orchestrated_ pout: “Say my name, Jaemin.”

Then, he walked away to a vacant table. 

As if he didn’t just do that to Jaemin.

Jaemin looks at Jeno in alarm, taking Jeno’s hand, and leading his fingers to Jaemin’s pulse on his wrist. “I’m having heart palpitations, Jeno.”

Jeno barks out a laugh. He guffawed, literally. Jaemin glances worrily at Mark, but he has his sweet airpods on, and already has his laptop out (a new Macbook as well, damn it, rich cousins), with a _not_ orchestrated pout on his lips, focusing on his work, and he just looks so. So. 

“Jaemin, dude. I think what you experienced was nervousness.”

Jaemin feels dread crawling up his skin slowly, washing over him, and he wants to _hide,_ and and and and, he can’t stop staring at Mark. Who is cool. Who dresses nicely. Who is cute. Who has the latest Macbook, goddamn. Jaemin blinks in realisation, blinking slowly at Jeno. “Did he just flirt back?” 

Jeno huffs out a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Wasn’t that one of your classic tactics?” 

Jaemin hides his face behind his hand. “Umghhhhghh.” Jaemin can feel Jeno patting his back. 

“Your class starts soon.” Jeno comforts.

And actually, that sounds like death. 

Jaemin forces himself to finish his assignment. 

He did not talk about Mark.

He just _looked_ at Mark. 

(Okay, maybe once).

-

It’s Jeno who drags him out to the South Korea meetup in the conference room. 

“It’s a gathering,” Jeno said to him at his dorm’s doorstep, and Jaemin closed his door on Jeno, planting his head in his bed, because honestly, after staying up to finish _another_ assignment, the least Jaemin wanted to do was to meet people, when he felt like shit, and just needed sleep. But Jaemin was not as smart as people thought, because he didn’t lock the door, so Jeno just opened the door again, and dragged Jaemin out. 

“It’s a gathering,” Jaemin mocks on the way there. “Bleh. Isn’t this more for International Korean students rather than us who already live here, dipshit?” 

Jeno elbows him. “We’re still Korean, aren’t we? What are you, white? It’ll literally just be icebreakers and eat some Korean food the committee made. Isn’t socialising your forte? Did Mark flirting back kill your mojo?” 

Jaemin’s body heats up hearing Mark’s name. “You’re acting like Mark flirting back with me made me glitch. I just finished an assignment. Didn’t you see my IG stories of me literally staying up until five to finish that shit?” 

“Yeah, I choose to not remember it,” Jeno retorts back, and Jaemin pouts at him. “Your admirers probably reply to them already, right?”

Jaemin winks. “No one can resist my charms.” He did get about fifteen replies, all with sympathy, and consoling words, and Jaemin did reply to them. But. “How’sMark doing lately? Haven’t flirted with him since last time?” 

Jeno snorts. “You mean since he destroyed your ass last time?” A girl and a guy passing by looks at Jaemin in judgement, and Jaemin grins shamelessly, but when they passed, Jaemin elbows Jeno. Jeno grunts, but continues. “Why do you care so much about him all of a sudden? On Monday you asked how he was doing, too!” 

“You’re cousins! You should know!” Jaemin argues. 

“You know that wasn’t the question I asked,” Jeno retorts back pointedly.

“What are you implying?!” Jaemin exclaims. 

“What you think I’m implying!”

“How would I know what you think I think I’m implying!”

“We’re going in circles again,” Jeno deadpans, elbowing Jaemin, and Jaemin thinks they’re both getting bruises from how much they’re elbowing each other today. They’re getting close to the conference room now. “If you like him, just ask him out!”

“I didn’t even ask about him much! Last time I asked was Monday! Today is Wednesday!” Jaemin grumbles, stomping his feet. He should really be quieter. The conference room is in the library after all. 

“You’ve been _rationing_ your ask about Mark quota?” Jeno teases.

“I cannot stand you, Jeno.” Jaemin says with a pointed look, and he pushes the door of the conference room open. There are plenty of people in the conference room already, mostly committee, meaning Jeno dragged him out early for no reason when he could probably get about fifteen minutes more sleep. Jaemin gives a small glare to Jeno. “Jeno Lee, you dirtbag.” 

Jeno rolls his eyes. “To be on time is late.”

"This isn't airport." Jaemin retorts. 

"This isn't airport," Jeno mocks, because he's mature.

Jaemin ignores Jeno to greet the committee. One of the girls even share the same Criminal Law lecture as him, as it turns out, and the girl looked at Jaemin nervously as she admitted this to him, as if embarrassed she knows of Jaemin’s existence when Jaemin’s doesn’t know her’s, and in Jaemin’s defence, truly, his Criminal Law lecture has literally 200 people in it, so Jaemin kind of only knows those who sit around his usual seat in the lecture, and yeah, he feels bad, okay? 

So he spends time with the girl, and they talk as they set up the projector together because the girl is incharge of the projector. Jeno keeps giving him glances as he helps out with setting up the ice breaking stations, and if Jaemin turns off his optimistic mode on, he’d be able to admit that Jeno’s glance is more of a glare more than anything, and yeah, yeah, okay, Jaemin can see where this is going.

They had just finished setting up the projector, and the girl, Ahra, is touching Jaemin’s arm when the door opens to Mark. He’s holding a recyclable bag, peering down at it, as if making sure the thing he bought was still there, and announcing to the room that: “Hey, guys. Got the seaweeeeed. Party time.”

And Jaemin thinks: oh, no. 

He’s so cool. He’s so cool. He’s so cute. He’s dressed so good. He’s wearing a black sweater with a blue collar popping out of the neckline, with chains around the neckline, and these cool pants, and he’s talking without stuttering. He’s still rambling about the seaweed, how overpriced fucking London is, and Jaemin realised that he has never seen Mark this carefree before, since the only response Jaemin has ever elicited out of Mark before Mark flirted back is fluster, embarrassment, awkwardness. Jaemin has never seen Mark like this: talking without worry, laughing and throwing his head back in laughter as he approached the seeming to be team leader who made a joke, and then he sees Jeno.

He greets Jeno like an old pal for a while, and then his eyes freeze because with Jeno usually comes Jaemin, and then his eyes scan the room slowly, and his eyes meet Jaemin’s and he freezes more, if that’s possible, but his eyes drop to Ahra’s hand on Jaemin’s own that is resting on the projector’s table, so Jaemin follows Mark’s gaze, and finally realises that Ahra has been calling his name. Jaemin glances back at Mark, and sees that Mark isn’t even looking anymore. Jeno’s eyebrows look furrowed in the way that he worries as he talks to Mark.

Jaemin smiles at Ahra. “Sorry,” Jaemin discreetly removes her hand from his own, and she frowns, clasping her hands together, and shuffles her feet a bit. “Ah, no, no. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. What was it, Ahra?” 

Ahra smiles at him, shyness obvious, but she doesn’t avert her eyes from Jaemin. “Your number. We share the same class after all.” 

Jaemin nods, taking his phone out, and giving it to her after unlocking it. “Yeah, that’d be nice! I only know people I have tutorial with in the Criminal Law lecture. I’d definitely could use some more help.” Jaemin bumps his hips against her. 

Ahra giggles. “Yeah, right. Everyone knows you’re on top of the class, Jaemin.” 

“Bull!” Jaemin retorts, and Ahra giggles again. 

“I’m right! Everyone knows!” 

“I think you’re flattering me, Ahra,” Jaemin teases, and she returns his phone to him with a big grin. 

“Never,” she says, and Jaemin flicks her on the arm softly. 

Jeno then appears. “Hey, Ahra! Bye, Ahra! It’s starting!” And he drags Jaemin away.

“Hey, that was rude,” Jaemin mutters under his breath as Jeno drags him away to an unoccupied seat. The room looks super full now, so some time must’ve passed while he was setting up the projector. 

“You’re rude,” Jeno mutters back under his breath. “Stop flirting with everyone you see, Jaemin. People get hurt because of your actions, you know.” 

“I’m not seeing anyone, how can anyone be hurt?” Jaemin mutters back. The head committee is now in front of the whole room, making a speech in Korean, and Jaemin listens half-heartedly, more focused on this conversation with Jeno. 

Jeno sighs, and whispers. “You know I used to not care who you flirt with. Someone is interested, truly interested, and that’s not something new. You’re used to that, I know. But _you’re_ interested now, Jaemin. That’s new, dude. Shouldn’t you take this chance? You don’t get interested in people. You might think it’s because he--um, them. They. flirted back. But I saw Ahra flirted the shit out of you earlier, and you barely acknowledged her! You know it’s more than that.” 

Jaemin rolls his eyes at Jeno. “You’re not as subtle as you think, you know.”

Jeno elbows him again. He’s seriously getting a bruise today. “I’m trying, asswipe.” 

Jaemin is just about to reply when everyone gets up, and starts forming teams of two. Jaemin sees Ahra approaching him, and Jaemin grins out of habit, but then Jeno shoves him away, and greets Ahra. “Hey, Ahra! Let’s be teammates, huh?” 

Jaemin rolls his eyes at Jeno and obviously taken aback, but polite Ahra, who agreed to be pairing with Jeno, and honestly bless her heart. Jaemin approaches Mark, who is committee, Jaemin’s sure, and he’s talking to the head committee about something, and something in Jaemin’s heart tugs just a little bit. 

Jaemin tugs at Mark’s sweater, grinning his usual grin, ignoring the pounding of his heart. He knows now this isn’t heart palpitations. “Hey, sweet Markly.” Mark, to his credit, blushes as he always does when Jaemin greets him, and the team leader, who introduced himself as Minjoon in his speech earlier, smiles at Jaemin in greeting, and Jaemin smiles back, but pouts, and averts his attention towards Mark again, tugging at Mark’s sweater again as shamelessly as he can. “Partner with me, Markly.” 

Mark glances at Jaemin again, and averts his eyes, like he always did. But then flashes of last week shows again, as he holds Jaemin’s hand that is tugging at his sweater, and he does the _pout,_ and says: “Jaeminnie, I’m the assistant head. I’m supposed to supervise.” Jaemin feels his breath stop, and the argument on the tip of his tongue stops. Mark smiles. At least the tip of his ears are red. “Why don’t you partner with Ahra? You two seem close.” 

Jaemin snaps out of it at that, grinning, then he pouts at Mark. Jaemin puts his hand on top of Mark’s hand that is on top of his. “Jeno is with her. C’mon, Markly, I’m partnerless. You’ll _supervise_ me.” Fine, Jaemin’s definitely shamelessly flirting now. But this isn’t even _fun,_ but desperate. 

Mark pulls his hand away from Jaemin, his cheeks colouring again, and god, he’s absolutely endearing, it’s almost annoying. Mark averts eye contact, and Jaemin’s reminded of the Mark he used to flirt with for fun. “That defeats the purpose!” 

Jaemin’s kind of stupid, so he does the only thing he knows how to do, and shows his face to Mark’s line of vision, and Mark, this time, continues to avoid Jaemin, so they’re doing this thing in front of the conference room where both of them just keeps shaking their head until their eyes meet, and it’s stupid, but Jaemin saw a quirk of smile from Mark, and thinks: what’s more embarrassment?

Minjoon who had been watching the whole thing silently amused, finally stops them, laughing as he does. “Alright, alright. Go with Jaemin, Mark. Heejin told me she didn’t wanna roll kimbaps earlier. So. Off you go. C’mon.” 

Mark grumbles, taking Jaemin’s hand, and dragging him to a one last empty station. There’s a rolling mat in front of them, and condiments of the kimbap in one container, another with weird ingredients, and another container with rice, as well as the seaweed Mark had bought earlier. Mark still refuses to look at Jaemin, choosing instead to look around the conference room, waiting for the supervisors to say something. 

“You’re still holding my hand, Markly,” Jaemin chooses to say. 

Mark lets go of his hand as if it burns. It might hurt if Jaemin is honest. It might hurt if Jaemin chooses to overthink. But this, surely earlier meant something, right? 

“Sorry,” Mark mutters, still looking at anything, but Jaemin. 

Jaemin bumps his hips against Mark’s. “I don’t mind. I like you holding my hands.”

Mark bursts at that, looking at Jaemin with fire in his eyes, and if Jaemin is less optimistic about this, he’d chicken out at the amount of anger present. The resentment, the _hurt._ “You’re doing it again!”

Minjoon chooses right at that moment to repeat the instructions. Mark is still angry, that is obvious with how rigid his body is. Jaemin wants to take his hand. To put his arm over his shoulder. Anything. Jaemin has to endure five minutes biting his tongue since Jaemin is not _that_ shameless to actually speak loudly when the room is fucking quiet. They finally start, and when the room is filled with chatters, Jaemin finally asks. 

“Doing what again?” Jaemin mutters under his breath, putting on a plastic glove. 

Mark sighs, putting on his own glove. He just looks tired now. Mark glances at him, putting the seaweed on the rolling mat. “Flrtgh.” 

“Huh?” Jaemin asks, and leans in closer. 

“You’re doing it!”

“Am not! Doing what!” Jaemin exclaims. 

“Flirting!” Mark whispers heatedly. “When you don’t mean it! When you do it to everyone else! When you make me feel special, only to get warned that you do this shit to everyone! And seeing it!” 

Jaemin used to not get it. How could he? Flirting was something he did for fun. The thrill of it, the back and forth banters. The riling each other up to not do anything about it. It’s just fun for Jaemin. He’s like that. He doesn’t like to take things seriously. But Jaemin _gets_ it. If Jaemin uses the brain people claim he has, then he’d be able to point out that Mark never really flirted back and forth unlike the last time, except even that couldn’t be considered back and forth since Jaemin froze the moment it happened. The thrill he claims to have from the banters doesn’t exist with Mark, and maybe, maybe, if he realised that sooner, he’d know that he likes flirting with Mark because he like the reactions Mark makes, the way he gets flustered, the way his cheeks heat up, the way his ears turn red. 

And, yeah, okay, top of class? Sure.

Top of his brain? Yeah, no. 

“I do mean it, though,” Jaemin mutters under his breath. 

“Huh?” Mark says, leaning in closer to hear better, and Jaemin feels his breath hitch at finally noticing Mark’s perfume hitting his nose, and _oh,_ he gets it. Mark already laid out the rice on top of their seaweed. Mark bumps his hips against Jaemin’s. “Say something.” The tips of his ears are red. Endearing. Oh, cute. “You’re not stupid. I know you could see what I meant, Jaemin.” Jaemin’s _name_ in his _voice?_

Jaemin’s knees feel weak. Jaemin has never been a shy person. He’s shameless, and even if he feels shame, he pushes it deep down, and put on a fake confidence until he eventually forgot that it’s fake. That’s how he lives his life, so he’s not familiar with this, and it’s annoying. Jaemin takes a deep breath. Starting to put the already cut cucumber on their mat. “I meant it. When I flirted with you.”

Mark’s breath hitch, taking a carrot. “It’s not good to lie, Jaemin.” 

His name, again. Does Mark want him to crawl? His knees seriously doesn’t feel good right now. “Markie, why would I lie?”

Mark gives him a look. “You flirt with everyone.”

“I won’t if you--” Jaemin stops himself. Shyness. God, why do people feel like this. 

“If I?” Mark counters, putting more shit Jaemin missed, and starting to roll their kimbap. “Stop buffering.”

“You do that to me!” Jaemin exclaims heatedly. 

“You do that to me, too! Why do you think I always get flustered when you flirt with me?!”

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered, though.” Jaemin argues weakly, knowing this is not the point of this conversation.

“So I’m not cute when I’m not flustered?” Mark challenges, putting their rolled kimbap to side, starting on another. They’re supposed to make a minimum of two. 

“Of course you are.” Jaemin says absently. Then he stops. “Did you just flirt back again?”

Mark kicks him. “You’re so fucking unfair. I don’t call you out when you flirt with me!”

Jaemin laughs at this. “I’m sorry. We’re getting off topic.” 

“You started it,” Mark mutters. Jaemin smiles, and Mark is focused on doing the kimbap, so Jaemin shows his face to Mark again. Jaemin can see his ears heating up again. “Every time you do that, I swear you make me lose my mind.”

“Markly, you’re so good at flirting.”

“Say what you’re trying to say,” Mark grits through clenched teeth. 

“I won’t flirt with anyone except for you for the rest of my life if you go on a date with me. Where you’ll actually look at me.” At that, Mark flashes him a glare, and that only proves Jaemin’s point because Mark had been avoiding his eyes the whole time. 

Mark’s silent for a while. Jaemin’s getting kind of tired of craning his neck. “Do you go to dates with every person you flirt with?”

“Just you,” Jaemin replies solemnly. To prove his point, Jaemin tugs at Mark’s sweater. “I post everything on my insta story, Markie. Have you ever seen me on a date?”

“You held rice with that glove,” Mark says weakly. Jaemin tugs again. “No, never seen you on a date.” Mark pauses. “Does Jeno count?”

Jaemin wrinkles his nose. “That’s like, incest. And you do watch my insta story, huh?! I’ve always thought you skip ahead since you _never_ reply.” 

Mark laughs at that, looking at Jaemin, and maintaining his eye contact, and oh, no, he’s so grown now.. “I had no idea you care that much.” 

“Just you,” Jaemin repeats. 

Mark smiles softly. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s go on the date.” 

Jaemin grins at Mark, and finally stands properly. He hums as he puts the weird condiments on their new kimbap.

It’s a comfortable silence for a while. “Maybe see if the date goes well first, and not flirt with anyone until, and on the date, then you can swear to never flirt with anyone for the rest of your life.” 

Jaemin snorts at that. “You care that much about how I can flirt?”

“Don’t want you to hate me for holding you back.” Mark argues lightly, but Jaemin can sense insecurity behind it.

“Don’t worry, I have you to flirt with.”

Mark just groans. 

But he tugs at Jaemin’s own shirt, so Jaemin knows it’s alright. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> HHHHH im way too embarrassed to reread this. but pls comment what you think of this fic, and leave kudos! it'd mean a lot to me! 
> 
> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nctkkum) if you wanna follow me! 
> 
> and i opened up a [curiouscat!!](https://curiouscat.me/adequater) if you wanna ask me questions hehe
> 
> thank you, once again. ❤️


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